


baby, it's cold outside. (a fitzsimmons secret santa fic)

by starrynigh



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, FitzSimmons Secret Santa 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-07 23:33:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17375306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrynigh/pseuds/starrynigh
Summary: Christmas. A time for family to gather and spread joy. And for Jemma Simmons, a time for intense stress and preparation. It was the couple’s first holiday together in their new home, and the brunette was determined for it to be a perfect one. Little by little, though, Jemma’s detailed plan starts to fall apart. Gifts being left behind, a lack of turkey to roast, burnt food & being snowed in all start to wreak havoc on the day. Can a surprise in the form of a puppy rescue Fitzsimmons’ Christmas?





	baby, it's cold outside. (a fitzsimmons secret santa fic)

**Author's Note:**

> merry (belated) christmas to my fitzsimmons secret santa, @agentpolarbear! despite me being a mess & only just posting this gift for you now, i thoroughly hope you enjoy the heap of fluff and stress that this story embody's. :)

_7:04 AM, THE BEDROOM._

Jemma opened her eyes slowly, allowing a smile to creep up on her as she was greeted by a sleeping Fitz. Their room was dark, albeit for a few weak rays of sunlight peering through the window. The big day had arrived, and the quiet early hours of the morning had inspired her to get started. She slowly made her way out of bed, moving carefully so as not to wake Fitz and feel the effect of his early morning wrath. Slipping out of the room with her hand on the doorframe, she took one last look at her sleeping husband. A soft smile on her lips, she closed the door behind her. She was going to make their first Christmas perfect.

_9:40 AM, THE KITCHEN._

Jemma stood resolutely in the kitchen, a determined smile on her lips and a mug of tea in hand. Fitz's tired form lumbered into the kitchen, wearing a loose shirt and grey bottoms. He blinked warily, hair sticking up in all plausibly directions. "Merry Christmas, Jemma." He mumbled, smiling lazily and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Jemma nodded brightly, passing him a steaming mug and a confident smile. "It's going to be wonderful. Our first Christmas here together." He took the mug gratefully, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “It’s only going to be wonderful because of your intensive organisational skills.” She raised her eyebrows, sipping at the hot liquid with a smile. “Really, though. I know how much this,” Fitz gestured at their surroundings, “all means. I just need you to know that all I really want is to spend it with y-” The both of them jumped at the sudden ringing of an alarm, almost spilling the contents of their mugs in the process. “ _Timer_!” Jemma started, turning it off in a quick flash. She leaned over the counter, letting out a sigh. “Sorry, Fitz. What were you saying?” He thought for a moment, analyzing the neon post it notes scattered around just the kitchen. They had endless different times and information scrawled across them in Jemma’s neat handwriting, and they were all a reminder of the work she was going to be doing.

“Nothing. Just, let me know if you need anything, okay?” He replied, placing the ceramic mug on the counter and giving Jemma a hurried kiss. “Alright, I’ll put the turkey on. Fitz, can you check the time?” She smiled, placing her mug down and shuffling over to the freezer. Her husband nodded, heading out of the kitchen and towards the grandfather clock located in the hall. A slight inconvenience, but the two of them passively accepted a traditional feel when they moved in.

Jemma’s eyes explored the contents of the freezer, scanning for the location of her pre bought turkey. If everything was set up by morning, the dinner would go down swimmingly by evening. Now, if she could just find it.. Damn. Her prize was nowhere to be seen. Still, Jemma’s mind remained clear. She could simply head to the shops and buy herself a turkey. Simple. She’d still have everything ready in time, and Christmas would still go entirely to plan. “It’s about ten, Jem-” Fitz froze in his tracks, mouth slightly gaping as he watched his wife zip her duffle coat up. “Where are you going?” He still looked the epitome of sleepy, brows furrowing with confusion, that Jemma couldn’t help but lean towards him and press a quick kiss to his lips. “The shops. I must’ve forgotten to buy the turkey last week!” He smiled slightly after the brief affection, but his expression remained puzzled. “Jemma, wait-” Once he turned around, Jemma was already half out the door. “The shops are closed!” He called, but his warning suddenly lost meaning as she opened the front door.

A thick wall of snow covered the entrance, so heavy that Jemma couldn’t get through it if she tried. She blinked, swallowing thickly as she thought it through. Fitz appeared next to her, narrowing his eyes at the sight. “Oh, Jemma..” He said quietly, placing a hand on the small of her back. “Snowed.. Snowed in.” She nodded quickly, ponytail bobbing. “We’re snowed in. Okay. Well, we can have Christmas without a turkey, right?” Fitz could hear her voice getting shriller, a newfound panic in her brown eyes. “Right?” She added, heaving a sigh of relief when Fitz nodded. “Of course, Jemma.”

_2:15 PM, THE KITCHEN._

Some elbow grease and lots of motivation later, Jemma’s new version of a Christmas dinner was well underway. The potatoes were roasting, the vegetables were cooking, and all she had left was to play the waiting game. With crossed arms and a satisfied ‘ _hmm_ ’, she gazed at her work. Fitz was in the living room, hurling creative insults at the football players on TV, a holiday tradition of his. She headed over to join him, giving the dinner a last glance over her shoulder.

“Merry bloody Christmas, you useless twats!” Came the familiar cry of her husband as she walked in. His accent seemed to get stronger whenever he yelled at the TV. “Getting into the festive spirit, I see.” Jemma laughed, perching beside him on the sofa. He grunted in agreement, brows still furrowed. “The amount of people that’d kill for their jobs, and we’re lumbered with _these_ useless bastards for our team.” He raved, gesturing angrily at the blaring screen. Jemma nodded sympathetically. “It’s a travesty, really.” She enounced, a hand travelling up to his shoulder. “Hey, Fitz..” She added, softly this time. His head swung around, eyes quickly meeting hers. “Yeah?” He replied, always in sync.

“I just..I’m glad we got here together.” Jemma said slowly, letting the trance of his gaze wash over her. “In Perthshire, I mean. For a while, I was scared we..” She cut herself off, swallowing thickly. His eyes flickered in recognition. She reached out to cup his face, looking up to meet his gaze. “I know you’re right. I just..” Fitz’s stare became ever present, and Jemma started to become more and more aware of how beautiful he looked. Slowly running her tongue over her lips, Jemma’s heart started to pound. Maybe, just maybe, the past month had been so chaotic that she’d forgotten to really appreciate what was in front of her. She’d been determined to make it a day to remember for them both, of course, but she hadn’t quite looked at Fitz, the man gazing right at her with eyes that reminded her of ocean waves and magic. Maybe it was time to focus on the real miracle she’d been gifted with.

Sighing softly, she pulled him closer to her with a passion stronger than she’d intended. Fitz, knowing her ways in and out, broke the distance and initiated the kiss she’d been waiting for. Their lips interlocked suddenly, passionately, with a certain kind of vigor that neither had felt for a while. Heat was flowing through Jemma’s veins, and her free hand held him closely. The tips of his fingertips found the nape of her tick, touching her skin with the weight of a feather. The light touch just fed Jemma’s desire, and she could feel it bubbling inside of her. She deepened the kiss-

Abruptly, Fitz broke the contact. Warm breath heavy, he smiled at her sheepishly. “Jemma-” His wife wasn’t in the mood, though, and allowed her lips to drift just above his cupid’s bow. A teasing, gentle touch. Fitz shook his head, but his expression said otherwise. “No, really, Jemma-” He created a distance between them, one that Jemma ached to break. “I’d do this all day, trust me, but.. Burning. I can smell, b-burning..” After a lingering moment, one so hazy Jemma damn near forgot what she was doing without her lips on Fitz’s, it hit her. Without a word, she was up from the sofa and hurdling towards the kitchen with enough gusto to win a ten meter sprint. Panic gripping at her chest, she shakily grasped at the levers to turn the heat off.

Smoke appeared in puffs in front of her, thick and bitter. Waving it the best she could away from her face, Jemma took a look at the wreckage. Charred and blackened beyond repair, stood her Christmas dinner. 4.03 PM, The Kitchen. Jemma stopped. Everything she’d planned had well and truly gone down the drain. What was Christmas without her special dinner? How could she even put food on the table when the shops were closed? Even plan B, her last thought; of retreating to her parent’s home for the night, completely disappeared when she remembered the thick walls of snow that covered the doorframe.

Every little thing she’d organized over the past month had, ironically, completely snowballed. Her eyes stung with sudden tears, and her vision started to blur around her. Fitz, lost in the whirl of her teary eyes, stepped towards her. Instantly, he had his hands running over her shoulders, looking right at her with aching sympathy. Jemma..” He trailed off slowly, running a hand through his hair for inspiration. “I know you’ve been planning this for so long, but..It’ll be okay. We can still spend Christmas together.” He was looking to her, reaching out for a sigh of agreement or some kind of recognition. Jemma could taste the salty tears that had fallen just moments ago, and she wiped them away speedily. He was right, of course he was. She just couldn’t shake the feeling that the chaos they’d left behind at S.H.I.E.LD was still following them around. With folded arms and a resolute sigh, she accepted the situation. “You’re right, you’re-” Swallowing thickly, she pieced together her sentence.

“I know you’re right. Just, give me a minute?” Fitz ran his palms up and down her arms, smiling encouragingly. “Of course, Jem.” With that, she retreated hastily out of the smoke filled warzone of the kitchen.

_5.20 PM, THE BATHROOM._

Sighing heavily as she entered the bathroom, Jemma headed to the mirror. God, Jemma, you look quite the mess. Her appearance had worn the chaos of the day quite ungracefully. Her ponytail, strands flying in all plausible directions, was loose and almost falling apart. Her face resembled that of a tomato in her opinion, and the knitted brows from her previous frustrations were the icing on the cake. Even the tears from before had left damp stains on her cheeks. She began to adjust the wreckage with nifty fingers, splashing cool water onto her face and allowing her brunette locks to run loose. Her and Fitz were probably in for a quiet night, anyway. What a perfect Christmas. Well done, Jemma. Finally finished, Jemma leant her forehead against the cool glass of the mirror. She sighed softly and began to assess the events of the day. Unbeknownst to her, Fitz had started gently tiptoeing up behind her, a nervous look on his face and a large item in hand. Jemma opened her eyes to see her husband in the mirror, and she swivelled round to greet him. She opened her mouth to say something, but Fitz instead pressed the brown box into her hands. She gave him a puzzled glance, brows knitting together in question. “Merry Christmas, Jem.” He said, eyes still slightly glazed with panic.

She started to unravel the clumsily tied bow, hand-wrapped by Fitz. Decoration was never his strong suit. Carefully opening the sides of the box, curiosity started to gnaw at her. What kind of surprise was this going to be? Jemma was never usually one for spontaneity, and the chaos of the day had been enough to last her forever. Her worries all melted away as she saw what was inside, though. “Fitz, what-”

A tiny puppy, one that she recognized as a Corgi, was curled up inside the box. Fitz watched his wife melt as she gazed at the little thing, an aura of something that he could only describe as a glow lighting up her features. “Oh, _Fitz.._ ” The animal’s fur was soft, as she slowly stroked its exposed chest. Jemma noticed that its eyes were closed, chest rising up and down as it slept. She’d never seen such a pure sight before. All the instinctive annoyance at her husband for purchasing an animal as a gift, when of course, a couple should discuss such a responsibility first disappeared in the moment, and all Jemma could do was look up at Fitz with pure love.

Knowing the new puppy was safe and sleeping for the minute, she cupped his face, thumbs drawing warm circles on his skin. “Thank you, Fitz.” She said softly, gazing directly into his eyes. He smiled, a sincere one that lit up his features, and shrugged. “I already knew I was going to get a puppy for Christmas, I just didn’t know how much you’d need a gift for you after today.” Fitz explained, placing a hand over hers. Jemma exhaled slowly. God, she loved this man. Deciding there was no more time to waste, she pulled him towards her once more and connected their lips with a kiss. Jemma could feel his smile against her lips, and warmth seemed to radiate deep within her bones. Fitz’s hand naturally found a comfortable crevice in the small of her back, and Jemma cradled the sides of his face, putting as much care as she could into the action. When the connection gradually ended, she leaned her forehead against his with a smile. “I love you.”

9:20 PM, _THE LIVING ROOM._

Hours had seemed to pass with Jemma’s face in Fitz’s neck, harsh stubble brushing against her cheek and familiar scent filling her senses. Their bodies remained intertwined for longer than originally planned, and the puppy found her place cradled in Jemma’s arms. It could have been dead into the night and nobody could care less, they’d found comfort back in each other’s arms and neither wanted to move. The TV blared softly in the background, ringing audio that could only be nighttime television. “So, a name.” Fitz declared suddenly, leaning his cheek against his hand. Jemma roused from her sleepy state, blinking questioningly. “A name?” She repeated, suddenly forgetting the sleeping puppy she was holding. He rolled his eyes playfully, resisting the urge to kiss her on the forehead at her endearing confusion. “Yes, a name. For the puppy.” He reminded her, one finger directed at the quiet little animal. “Winston.” Jemma said, voice resolute and eyes unblinking. Fitz fought back a laugh at her stern response, thinking it over. “ _Winston?_ ” He repeated, gesturing wildly. “Yes, Winston. Problem?” Jemma repeated, completely unfazed. Her drowsiness always led to grumpiness, and Fitz knew there was no fighting this one.

“Alright, alright. We’ll go with that, then. Not Rover, Spot, bloody.. Snowflake, or something. Winston.” He flopped back on the sofa, rubbing his eyes in defeat. Jemma smiled smugly, stroking the top of the puppy’s head. “I’ll have you know, Winston was the name of my family’s old dog. I grew up with him, he was a loyal and true companion, Fitz.” “Okay, okay.” He groaned, holding his hands up in defeat. Jemma sighed with satisfaction, snuggling closer into his chest. “Winston, we have a problem.” He mumbled, barely audible against Jemma’s hair. She barely had the energy to scold him, instead giggling in a way that only an exhausted person could. “ _Houston,_ Fitz, and you know it.” He closed his eyes, about to surrender to sleep. “Mhm.”

Something soothing and calm washed over the two of them, and the moment felt still and relaxed. Finally, the chaos of the past month had dissipated, and Jemma found herself wondering if this was all she really needed. Her idea of a perfect Christmas hadn’t gone according to plan, but next to her husband she felt as if nothing could get any better.


End file.
